C H A P T E R 9
❛ familiar faces. ❜
MILO
THE MAN WITH THE CROSSBOW SLOWLY edged forwards, as though he was stalking a prey. His eyes held a venomous glare that sent shivers down Milo's spine. 'Who the hell are you?' He questioned, his voice demanding and his body wound as tight as the string of his bow.
'Who the hell are you?' Tomas shot back.
'He's bleeding out,' the man with the hatchet said, his eyes focused on the wounded man on the floor, not even bothering to look at the inmates, 'we gotta go back. Put pressure on the knee, hard. Hard!'
Milo watched with wide eyes how they tried to save the man's life but his attention was pulled back to the man with the crossbow when he ordered them to come out of their hiding place. Tomas was the first one to do so and the others, not having much of a choice, slowly followed. Milo held the stick in a tight grip, his eyes never leaving the man with the crossbow, his heart beating nervously in his chest.
'What happened to him?' Tomas asked, gesturing at the wounded man on the ground.
'He got bit,' the man with the crossbow spat back, clearly not wanting to chit-chat.
'Bit?' Andrew asked, his voice slightly shaking.
Suddenly Tomas raised his gun and Milo closed his eyes for a second to gather his patience. That definitely wasn't the way to handle the situation and if he were to lose his temper again they would truly be in big trouble.
'Do you have medical supplies?' An asian guy asked, completely unbothered by the gun pointing at their group. When no answer came, he got to his feet and headed straight for the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and drawers.
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COLLAPSED ᵀᵂᴰ¹ ✔
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